


The Butler Did It

by Irishgrlnextdoor



Series: Halloween Bats [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Boys in Chains, Chains, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Family Bonding, Family Dinners, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insanity, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Alfred Pennyworth, Psychological Trauma, Restraints, Threats of Violence, Thriller, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, character death (alfred), dead robin: do not eat, forced cannibalism attempted/failed, meat served to known vegitarian, nongraphic/offscreen violence and dismemberment, unhinged character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irishgrlnextdoor/pseuds/Irishgrlnextdoor
Summary: There's going to be a family dinner, and Jason is still a part of the family. Alfred is going to make certain everyone remembers and understands that once and for all.Happy Early Halloween work.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: Halloween Bats [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954837
Comments: 30
Kudos: 87





	The Butler Did It

**Author's Note:**

> Other Wips paused for October works/events. 
> 
> READ THE TAGS and note that this is told by the viewpoint of an unrelatable/insane narrator, so reading between the lines at times is required.

"I do hope everyone is enjoying their day. Dinner will be served promptly at 5, and I for one am glad that we could finally have the whole family together for once... just as soon as Master Jason is ready to join us at the table that is." Alfred smiled with a certain fondness from where he stood back from the dining table most of the family were seated at.

The two youngest were making a bit of a fuss together, but he could well take that in stride by this point. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last that there would be unruly boys in the manor. Alfred was well accustomed.

Bruce sat at the head of the table, rigid and with a wide range of emotions traveling behind his stony blue eyes. He always was a sensitive one, the emotions always there, but trapped inside as suffering prisoners at the hands of his demons. He usually got pent up around Jason in particular, so Alfred tried not to over-fret about it.

He had every hope that this dinner would do them both good, that Jason could become part of the family once more- willing to consider even the smallest measure a good start. This dinner meant a lot for him too, more than he could fully admit to even himself.

Oh, but so lost was he in his worry over his dear Master Bruce, Alfred almost missed it when Master Richard's knee hit the underside of the table, his glass of water knocking over.

He should have expected it, for some mess to eventually happen, but he would have assumed Timothy and Damian's fussing would be to blame over the eldest boy's sudden movement.

Not to worry, however, he was a professional, after all, and he was around the table and at Richard's side in no time, hand towel off his arm and upon the spilled water. He would have to treat the wood underneath the tablecloth later. And poor Richard's knee had to be smarting where he had bumped it. Alfred rested a reassuring hand on the lad’s shoulder, ignoring the flinch he felt as he piped up in an easy-going tone. "Never fear, Master Richard, this is no matter, and I will fetch you more water while I check to see if Jason is ready to join us. Does anyone else need more water? Perhaps tea, or wine?"

Master Timothy made a noise, but Alfred gave a brief but stern shake of his head. "I should think no more coffee for today, Master Tim, but I'll fetch you some tea in but a moment."

Tim settled a little, and Master Bruce turned his head away when Alfred glanced to him expectantly of a drink order. With none forthcoming he gave a shallow bow to the room. It was perhaps more formal than the family usually participated in, but it was still a special occasion as far as Alfred was concerned. "If you'll excuse me everyone... won't be but a moment."

It was Richard who started fussing then, he had been more docile up to that point, but now he started lurching about in his chair, fighting against his restraints, causing the steal and chains to rattle atrociously. His knee hit the bottom of the table again in his struggles, but the table was solid and heavy enough that he only managed to make the other's glasses wobble a bit.

Still, it was more than Alfred would have expected him to manage between the bat-certified and tested cuffs he had pulled up from the cave. Especially given the amount of relaxant Dick had to be fighting his way up through. Alfred had been less liberal with the sedatives on the children, but he had thought he had been overly cautious if anything with the older Masters. He would correct that, but first he had to fetch Master Jason and check on dinner.

He strolled into the kitchen with well-established grace and poise, catching sight of Jason towards the back of the room, always wanting to put off being around Bruce as long as possible, a habit that Alfred had tried to respect tonight, but with the expectation that there would be no more of it after this. Jason did so get anxious around Bruce these days. Alfred understood that, understood their history, but it was high time for them to try to move past that, for the family's sakes as well as their own. For... for his own sake. "I hope you're about ready, Master Jason," he greeted. "The rest of family is waiting for just you now."

There was a grumbled, slurred response, but Alfred allowed the protests to roll off his own shoulders. Jason never really meant it. He wanted to be a part of the family again, deep down. Alfred would help him to bridge that gap tonight. "Now now, Young Sir, that sort of tone will help nothing. But a good meal will change all that."

He turned to his beverage cart, setting to task getting drinks prepared and loaded upon it. A nice cup of tea, an ice pitcher of water and spare glasses, one of which he poured for Richard now so it would be nice and refreshing by the time it got back to him.

Alfred dug out the orange medicine bottle from his pocket and fished out a single pill, dropping it into the water glass. Just enough to calm Richard again without taking him too far out of this important dinner.

Alfred did so feel guilty using ejections on the poor man, always so pouty around shots as a kid. The pill would suffice.

Just to be safe, however, in case Dick wanted to pout and protest as he used to as a child, he went to the fridge and fished into the back, pulling out the liquid tranquilizers and one of the syringes he kept sterile and handy to prep and set it on the little cart next to the drinks.

He moved the cart to wait by the doorway so it would be out of the way and ready to go, and then moved to the back of the room where Jason had been left to rest up. He was still slurring dreadfully as he started to gain a little more awareness. And as he drew near the younger man teal eyes rolled up towards Alfred in a slow blink of recognition. Jason would no doubt be unable to even walk himself out of the room in such a state.

That was fine, more than anticipated. That was what the wheelchair he was lying upon was for, after all. It had the ability to recline all the way back into a makeshift gurney, so it had been perfect to place Jason in when he had passed out almost two hours ago. Alfred merely popped it up into a seated position for easier travel- although the size and weight of his second young sir made that no easy feat even with the added mobility.

No matter, he got the job done. The pained groan Jason made told him to be slow and gentle as he wheeled the chair over by the cart. That was fine, he could be slow and gentle. How many times had he cared for all his boys in just the same manner? Countless. This was no different.

The way Jason curled into himself pitifully, held up by his own restraints in the chair more than by his own strength made Alfred wince a bit, but he reminded himself that that was fine too, because it meant the lad was very affected by the painkillers and relaxants that he had been given. Alfred wanted him awake, however, and he was at least coming around to that now, slowly, still a bit in and out of it as he slumped in his chair.

That had to be so, however, or else he would be in too much pain to focus on the important aspects of tonight.

Family. Togetherness.

Bruce's cause was what the man claimed to be the most important, but that simply wasn’t true. Not really. Alfred knew Master Bruce better than that. Deep down was the child that longed for these things still. Alfred would feed that inner child so starved for family tonight.

Speaking of starved, Alfred turned and made his way back to the oven to quickly check on supper, pleased to see it on track to being ready right at 5. Perfect. Everything was really coming together then. 

With a little extra bounce in his step that equated to hopefulness, he crossed back over to the young sir’s side. "Alright, Master Jason, let's get you out there, and then I'll have just enough time to come back for dinner. Tally-hoe!"

X

Alfred was not as spry as he had once been by a wide margin, but he made it work. Pushing Jason's bulk had been no small feat, but he managed to get him wheeled up to his spot at the table, parking him just to the right of Bruce from where the man sat at the head of the table.

The others had all started fussing at the sight of Jason as he joined them, but the old butler had tried to mitigate some peace between them all. Certainly, relations between all of them and Jason were strained, but Alfred sternly reminded them all that they would not be acting up at his table or else. He had also gone on to reminded them that Jason was a part of the family, even still, and the days of pretending otherwise were done. They would be family again. Jason would be part of them again.

His speech had been rather good- if he did say so himself- it had reached Timothy and Jason at least, whom both had started tearing up in the midst of it, resisting but eventually breaking down into muffled sobs. Some of it might have been the effect of the drugs, but he was sure much of it was genuine emotion.

Even Master Bruce had looked gutted and vulnerable as he had watched his second son regain consciousness and break down all at once, watery and distressed gaze fixed on the dressings of Jason's most recent injury where it was cradled in the younger man’s lap. Alfred had had to sacrifice just a few of the restraints with Jason to not aggravate his injuries. He was already in so much pain, and the butler really had no interest in causing him to suffer unduly.

Alfred passed out the drinks as they all mulled over his words, allowing them the opportunity to come to terms with their own emotional hang-ups surrounding this reunion of sorts.

Even Master Damian had stilled his fussing, his own chains falling silent at last as he stared across the table at Jason.

Alfred watched Jason closely as he went about his business, making sure those tears running down his cheeks and neck weren't from too much physical pain. He could give the young man more pain killers, but- same as Dick- he didn't want to take him too far out of the moment.

He checked his pocket watch. If they could make this dinner quick then maybe after he could give Jason more- _ah, 4:57 p.m. Perfect_.

"If you'll excuse me a moment, Master Bruce, I'll fetch supper."

The slow and suffering closing of Bruce's eyes was all Alfred took as his dismissal, straightening his posture and taking up his cart once more to wheel it back to the kitchen.

Less than a minute there, less than a minute back, just over a minute to pull supper out of the oven and transfer it onto one of the fine-china serving dishes that sat waiting at the ready to receive it.

He had considered using the fine silver platters that had been Thomas's instead but, sharp as they were, he had foregone them for the far homier touch of Martha's heirloom China. He smiled fondly at the presentation it made and knew he had chosen correctly as he loaded it onto the cart and wheeled it back out to the dining room.

He arrived within the confines of 5:00, seconds before the clock on the wall clicked over to 5:01.

The rest of the family had settled more since the last time he had arrived, Tim and Richard both trying to engage Jason through small measures, both flinching and leaning back in their seats as Alfred returned. He smiled and winked at them, ignoring how they turned away. Sheepish lads. Why should he ever mind that? This is exactly how it should be; them making an effort, trying to break the ice with Jason as it were. Ice, that it seemed, had Master Bruce still frozen in his own chair, looking surprisingly lost, unable to look away from Jason's injury still.

It would be fine. Alfred knew the man was worried, but Jason had had far worse in his time. He would recover easily under Alfred's care.

"Dinner is served," Alfred announced properly, moving the heavy platter from the cart to the table, standing at the corner between Bruce and Jason to do so. Bruce's eyes did shift in recognition of the China, and then affixed on the meal being presented.

He had always had a healthy appetite, Alfred mused to himself, overlooking the way the color seemed to drain out of the man that he had raised up. He instead turned to Damian. "Now, Master Damian, forgive me, for I know well your aversion to meat, but I will have to insist a single exception be made just for tonight for this meatloaf, very special as it is. It's important after all that Jason become a part of the family once more. That’s what family is about, having others that love you enough to carry a small piece of you in them at all times. We will once more be a part of him, and he will be- in some small measure, a part of us.”

Alfred had meant to say more, but he was interrupted by the muffled screams that Jason suddenly started to unleash as he stared down the meatloaf set out in front of them all. He had only started to turn to the lad when the thrashing followed, weak at first, but building quick to clank the chains sharply against the metal rungs of his wheelchair like a terrified animal or a man possessed. Alfred tried to check the lad’s injury first, because perhaps he had simply bumped it.

The padding over the covered stump where Jason's left hand had been severed was still pristine, but the moment Alfred reached for that arm to get a better look Jason thrashed madly like he had been stabbed, and everyone else started yelling muffled cries of desperation and rage behind their gags, struggling once more against their own chains.

It was Bruce that surprised Alfred the most with his outburst, no longer vacant, but full of pure unbridled and protective rage as he surged forward against the extra-reinforced restraints he had specifically been fitted with. He nearly toppled his own chair forward with the attempt, but it corrected itself, and Bruce went deathly still as that glare- the one reserved for the worst offenders of Gotham only; never Alfred... never family- locked upon him and refused to look away. He didn't so much as blink, and as chilled as Alfred found himself at that gaze, he was even more offended by it.

This was not the time or place, and he was certainly not the sort of person to ever earn such a look from the Dark Knight.

No- that was what was so offensive actually. This wasn't Batman glaring at him, radiating a deep, betrayed hatred at him. It was _Bruce_.

But such foolishness. After all, Alfred was in no way an enemy. He was single-handedly bringing this family together.

He had to clear his throat to make sure it remained unaffected as he turned to give Bruce his attention for the moment. “Master Bruce, that is quite enough. There’s been too much fighting already and tonight is about the family joining together once more. Jason’s sacrifice to that end is most-

He was cut off, having to jump back when Bruce lurched for him once more, as if he could break steal and Alfred both just based on his own willpower and Alfred…

Alfred was almost afraid he would succeed. He was stunned by how much the man was already accomplishing despite the amount of drugs he had given him. No one knew better the tolerances of his family, and Alfred had planned this accordingly. He knew how to get their guards down, how to coordinate them to pull off such a stunt, what immunities they had trained into themselves and how to avoid those. None had more intimate knowledge of any of the family members present, and thus he was very worried by this show of strength that Bruce was still summoning up at the moment, dark glare screaming rage and betrayal and… pain. Always pain.

Alfred needed him to calm down. The others across the table were starting to fuss once more as well, spurred on by their mentor as Jason continued to sob and pant around the gag. Alfred turned and moved around to the other side of Jason where the beverage cart sat, reaching for the-

He felt the pinch in his thigh at the same moment that he realized the syringe he had prepared and placed upon the cart was gone, as well as his mistake of getting far too close to Jason’s right side. The burn like fire in his leg only further drove home all his mistakes in his mind, flashing before him like a blooper reel.

He had left the cart next to Jason back in the kitchen, failing to take into account that Jason’s limitations- lesser known to Alfred these days than the others- might have expanded even further than previously thought in his lost days since returning from the dead. He had been groggy and out of it, but perhaps not to the exact extent he had led Alfred to believe. Because the only explanation that Alfred could see was that in the moments that he had been distracted, Jason had used his tender, freshly-made stump to pull the syringe off the cart so it could drop into his lap, hidden between his thighs as Alfred had wheeled him out, and then carefully passed over to his right hand, restrained, but all he had needed was the chance… and Bruce had given that to him.

Jason must have shown it to him while Alfred was out fetching supper. He wasn’t fixated on Jason’s injury cradled in his lap. Not just that anyway.

Surely he had seen then, how much was in that shot. Surely he had known, what getting the full dose would mean for Alfred’s old heart, not nearly trained up on the same resistance to tranquilizers as the rest of them. Alfred knew, and he felt the fire spreading through him as his whole body became heavier, and heavier, pulling him down to the floor.

The cart overturned, crashing to the floor alongside of him when he tried to catch himself on it, broken glass and cold water going everywhere. It soaked through his clothes, but seemed unable to do anything for the fire, and the effort it took to turn his head as he slumped against the empty chair next to Jason was incredible. He managed, however, to turn his head to look back up at Jason as the lad used his free stump to pull the fork off the table in front of him into his lap as well, gasping and gritting around the tender pain, sweat already dripping off of him.

It was clearly a painful, daunting task for him to be doing any of this, and some stray thought in Alfred’s addled mind wished Jason to not hurt himself by trying too hard. The younger man managed to get his fork transferred to his right hand alongside the syringe, and Alfred watched in numb interest as he desperately bent down to start twisting the prongs of the fork into the shape he needed using only his bare teeth.

It was harder for him to finagle the fork and needle around into the lock of his shackle on his right hand, but watching his training come into play even now was a thing of wonder, and the rest of the room faded as Alfred focused as much as Jason did on the job he was doing. Even as Alfred’s body got even heavier, and the sound of his own heartrate started to fill his ears, thrumming through his head to block out the sounds of the other young masters still fussing behind their gags on the other side of the table.

He had slid down from the chair to the floor by the time that Jason got his cuff unlocked. It had been simple, Alfred using the better ones on the others, never dreaming Jason would be cognizant enough to pull this off. A flare of pride swelled up inside of him- he couldn’t help it.

Jason looked awful, drenched in sweat and looking on the verge of passing out or throwing up, probably both. Probably very soon. He didn’t even look at Alfred, clearly trying not to. Alfred went to open his mouth, wanting to suggest Jason slow down out of concern for him, because that was all he could feel at the moment. The fire was gone at last, and he couldn’t even feel the damp nor the cold from the spilled pitcher, even though he could see he was drenched. There was just the increasing heaviness of his entire body, seeping in from the outside to spread to his innards as well, air starting to become a struggle to take in. But there was no room for concern for himself with Jason suffering so right before his eyes. Why hadn’t he thought to put Jason’s severed arm in a sling so he wouldn’t have to waste the effort holding it against himself? His poor boy.

The sound that escaped him was a strangled, nonsensible noise, and as soon as Alfred realized this he fell quite once more, tongue and jaw uncooperative, and air still growing more scarce, thoughts less coordinated, yet hyper-focused on the most mundane things.

Jason still refused to meet his eyes even as he turned and started reaching down with his now freed hand… oh, he was fishing through Alfred’s pocket. Strange how he couldn’t feel it, but he watched as Jason found and pulled out the key to the other’s cuffs that Alfred had kept with him. He was crying still, so distraught that it was a wonder that he managed to throw the keys into Bruce’s lap at all, and as soon as he did so Jason sank back into his seat once more and made inhumane sounds of distress around his gag.

Alfred gasped alongside of him, head going light as the struggle for air became too much to ignore. It didn’t stop him from staring, from watching from the floor where he lay crumbled up as Jason cried, and then in a moment Bruce was there, out of his chair, although his legs shook like a newborn calf’s. He braced himself against the table and gave the key a quick toss across it towards Dick’s lap before turning back to Jason. He swayed alarmingly, nearly falling upon Jason rather than helping him, but he managed to catch himself on the armrests of the wheelchair. This caused the chair to push back a little ways, Bruce falling to his knees before him. He didn’t seem concerned by that, simply giving his head a shake obstinately to try to clear it as he steadied on his knees. With determination that bypassed the pallor of his face, he set to work freeing up the other chains that bound Jason to the chair still.

Silly, Alfred thought in delirium, he didn’t need to unbind the lad; the chair had wheels after all. He could just wheel him about wherever he wanted him to go.

Any trace amounts of disappointment Alfred had started to feel for the way the night had gone (because there were those clinging to the edges of his sight as it dimmed) took a turn as he watched Bruce take Jason’s face gently between his hands. He turned the crying boy to look at him, and then pulled him close, Jason bending nearly over in half as the man hugged his head against that strong shoulder of his, hand cupped protectively over the back of Jason’s hair. For a moment they stayed like that, and something was being said by Bruce, but Alfred couldn’t hear it over his own heartrate and a sound like water rushing behind his ears.

His vision blacked for a moment, and came back blurred. Even so, he could see Jason half sliding and half falling out of the wheelchair onto the floor in front of Bruce. Rather than the large man he was, Bruce’s arms cradled Jason close to him as if he were a child once more, freshly pulled off the streets, scared and damaged.

Others were there, three of them stumbling around the table together, their images too fuzzy for Alfred to really make out. That was okay, he knew it was just the family, and they were all together once more, knew that they would continue to be there for Jason now, and each other in the wake of all this.

Alfred didn’t know if it caused him to smile or not, but he felt warm like he was doing just that, and he let the darkness and the peace it brought with it claim him. He was just happy that dinner had been a success in the end.

* * *

"...single-handedly bringing this family together."

Did- did you get it? ;) Did you get it? Yeah… yeah, you got it.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come so subscribe to my author page   
> *I'm so sorry, Alfred, you're my favorite character but this is the work you got from me... you deserve so much better.


End file.
